


Malm

by 2ofacrime24



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:52:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2ofacrime24/pseuds/2ofacrime24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam, and Castiel find themselves on a case at an IKEA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovely_narcissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely_narcissa/gifts).



> It's been a while since I've last stepped foot in an IKEA so hopefully I've got the setting right. Sorry it's a bit short and ended up more of a case!fic than originally planned but hopefully you enjoy it. Happy Holidays!

Dean fidgeted next to his brother, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he unbuttoned and re-buttoned his suit jacket with one hand while the other tapped out a staccato beat on his thigh. Sam had taken to glancing at him every few moments, his friendly smile faltering as his eyes met Dean’s while he talked to the rumpled IKEA employee in front of them. Dean was sure that once Sam finished asking questions, that smile would disappear completely to make way for the usual bitchface that would make his displeasure at Dean’s actions known. Sam nudged him roughly with his shoulder and sent Dean stumbling to the side and into a round metal bin filled with throw pillows before he apologized to the yellow polo wearing kid and smiled. “Sorry, you were saying?” The boy nodded and stuttered a reply as he looked down at his shoes while Sam pointedly looked over at Castiel who laid flat on a model bed to the side and then back at Dean. Dean sent a wide eyed stare back, his hands flaring out in a short abortive movement, palms up and plaintive but Sam shook his head and nodded once more to Castiel before returning his full attention to the teen in front of him.

Dean frowned and huffed, unbuttoning his suit jacket once more and pulling at his tie, loosening it slightly as he made he way over to the model bed that Castiel had taken residency of. The angel continued to stare at the open ceiling as Dean approached, his brows pulled together in confusion as his eyes squinted at the exposed beams and light fixtures above him. Dean frowned in turn and nudged the bed with his knee, jostling the angel slightly. “I feel nothing here that would compel a person to stay in this spot while a light fixture fell on them,” Castiel stated softly, looking over at Dean who stood over him and shrugged. “Are we sure that this had some supernatural influence and wasn’t just an unfortunate accident?” Dean sighed and sat down on the bed, shoving Castiel’s lightly and forcing him to shuffle across the bed to make room for Dean.

“I would normally agree with you but the fact that this is the third unfortunate accident in as many weeks tells me there’s something going on here.” Castiel huffed and pushed himself up, his shoulder pressing against Dean’s back. Dean shook his head and rubbed a hand over his stubble as he looked about the deserted store and over to the crime scene across from them. The body had already been carted away along with the large stage light. Dean could still see small shards of glass litter the floor, hidden under the frames of neighboring beds. The original bed had also been carted away, the floor now bare and taped off. Dean looked up to the ceiling above it, noting the missing light and the beam that supported it. He turned towards Castiel and pointed up at the beam, asking, “Can you see anything weird about the beam? Any weaknesses?”

Castiel shrugged and looked to where Dean pointed, his eyes squinted as he leaned forward, his lips pursed. Castiel shifted, his shoulder grazing across Dean’s back before all contact was gone and Dean thought he missed Castiel’s warmth for a moment before he shook his head, letting his gaze wander over to where his brother stood, now talking to the store manager, his face the perfect mask of empathy. Dean frowned as the bed shifted beneath him, the weight of Castiel gone as the angel stood up and crossed the show room. He ducked underneath the tape and centered himself under where the light had originally been. He turned in a circle before stopping and looking over a Dean. Dean felt himself fidget once more under the steady gaze and he shook his head again before standing up and joining Castiel, ducking under the yellow tape and closing in next to the angel.

“The beam is in tact, strong. There are no weaknesses that I can perceive. I believe this might have been supernatural after all.” Dean nodded and watched as Castiel stooped down, resting on the balls of his feet, his forearms balanced on his knees as he lent forward and sniffed at the air. Dean raised an eyebrow but otherwise remained silent as Castiel moved in a semi-circle before moving towards an adjacent bed, one that had remained untouched by the carnage, in a crouch, his trench coat trailing behind him. Dean tilted his head to the side, leaning slightly to get a better look at Castiel who laid himself flat on his stomach to reach at something beneath the bed when he felt Sam clap him on the shoulder.

Dean jumped, startled and looked over to see his brother’s own eyebrows had receded into his hairline. Dean growled and shook his head in warning. “Don’t.”

Sam shook his head and motioned behind him to the small gathering of employees behind them. “Store manager swears they’ve been doing routine checks on everything since the last two incidents and that there was no way that the light could have fallen. He’s adamant about this because apparently they had a guy replace the bulbs yesterday and check the rigging while he were up there,” Sam stated, looking over at Castiel who slunk further under the bed and raised an eyebrow up in question at Dean who shrugged in answer.

“Probably knows they’re getting sued out the ass soon,” Dean commented, fixing his gaze on Sam who nodded and looked down at the small notepad in his hands.

“Yeah. The kid that saw it all says he’d been talking to the couple when it came crashing down. Managed to grab the wife and pull her back but the husband was on the bed when-“ Dean cut him off with a wave of his hand and grimaced, looking over at the boy in question who stood surrounded by other co-workers.

“Geeze, I had thought he looked a bit red in the face,” Dean replied, gesturing to his own before shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned back round to look over at Castiel who was pushing himself out from under the bed, something clutched in his fist. “Hopefully Fido here found us something useful.” Sam pursed his lips and frowned, shaking his head before sticking out a hand and pulling the angel up off the ground. Castiel nodded in thanks, brushing off his trench before holding out his prize. Dean groaned loudly as Sam took the small pouch, untying the string and letting the fabric fall open, revealing its contents.

“Witches? I fucking hate witches!” Castiel frowned and shook his head, looking around the closed off show room, gaze settling on the group of employees a few feet away, huddled close and shooting looks of interest towards them. He hovered for a moment before shifting to close off the view of the hex bag from any unwanted eyes as Dean leaned forward, his mouth twisted in a grimace. “Thing smells rank. You don’t suppose there are more of those hidden around here?” Sam sighed and shoved the pouch in his pocket.

“It makes sense. I bet we’d find them at the other accident sites as well,” Sam replied. He frowned and shifted his weight, his brows pulled together as he bit at his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. Dean watched his brother mull over whatever he was thinking about for a few moments, waiting for his brother’s inevitable break-through before finally sighing impatiently.

“Well? What is it?”

“It’s just usually these things are targeted but all these victims have no commonalities between them other than having poor taste in furniture.”

“You got that right!” Dean scoffed, looking over at Castiel who merely frowned, the line between his brows deepening. Sam sighed and continued on.

“What if the real target hasn’t been hit yet?” Dean frowned, leaning forward while side glancing the group of employees to his far right.

“You think you know who it is?” he asked and Sam shrugged, non-committal before answering.

“I think I have an idea. The kid who saw it all happened to be witness to the other accidents as well.”

“Damn, why the hell did he keep coming back?” At Sam’s next shrug, Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, rubbing it back and forth before dropping his hand to his side and looking about the store. “Well we better get to work then, sweep this place from top to bottom, find the bitch, and then gank her.” He turned to Castiel and clapped a hand on the angel’s shoulder giving the slightly shorter man a crooked smile. “I don’t suppose you could just mojo all the hex bags away for us, huh?” Castiel shook his head, looking slightly cowed.

“No, I should be able to sense them though which will make finding them easier and I’ll be able to trace the magic back to its creator. “ Dean grinned and clapped Castiel’s shoulder once more.

“That’s good. Let’s get started. The sooner we finish this the better and frankly all this over priced shit is giving me a headache.”

***

It had been while they were clearing the place of hex bags, a total of 20 by the end, that Dean had stumbled onto the witch by accident. He’d been digging in one of the model apartments, maneuvering around the tight space when he’d caught the young woman stashing a hex bag in a false compartment over the bed. She’d been just as surprised to see him as he had been to see her, especially given the fact that everyone was supposed to have vacated the premises two hours earlier. He’d been just as surprised when the closet next to him banged open and he found himself slammed inside of it, the space even more confining as a string of curses fell from his lips.

He was liberated a few moments later and had fallen into the steady hands of Castiel when he heard the fire of a gun. He tugged himself from Castiel’s grasp and bounded out of the model apartment, tripping over the edge of the bed and crashing to the ground in an ungraceful heap before scrambling upwards and towards the sound, Castiel following swiftly behind him. He rounded a corner and slid into the kitchen showroom, his feet grappling for purchase on the slick floor and he felt himself slip backwards, a stuttered gasp erupting from him as Castiel’s arms wrapped around his middle and propelled him forward, towards Sam who was being held up against a fridge, his face screwed up in pain.

“Hey!” Dean yelled, attracting the witch’s attention as he barreled towards her. She growled and flicked her wrist, watching as Dean flew upwards and over the counter of a model kitchen opposite of the one Sam was pinned in. He knocked his head against the cabinets and hit his left side hard, wincing as he pushed himself up off the ground. There would be bruises in the morning but Dean had bigger things to worry about like what the juiced up bitch planned to do with his brother.

It seemed, though, that he didn’t have much to worry about in terms of Sam as he immediately found his brother sitting up against the fridge he had been held against, breathing harshly but overall alright. Dean frowned and looked about the darkened showroom, finally landing on Castiel who held the woman aloft by her jacket, her feet kicking feebly at air as her hands scrabbled at his wrist. “What are you?” she gasped, lips twisted into a snarl. Castiel didn’t reply simply watched as she struggled in his grasp, kicking and screaming. “I’ll kill you!” she screeched and Dean winced in sympathy at the sound Castiel must have been hearing being so close to her.

Dean quickly moved across the way, bending down to check on Sam who shook his head and pushed Dean away, muttering about Castiel and how Dean should help him instead. Dean shook his head and pulled Sam out to the walkway in order for him to see Castiel’s grip on the woman. “What is he doing?” Sam asked with a cough as he leaned forward on his hands, Dean’s own gripping the back of his jacket to hold him up.

“Cas! Just finish her and let’s get out of here! She’s making too much noise, some night guard outside is gonna hear and then we’ll all be fucked,” he yelled as he pulled Sam to his feet, eyes sweeping the showroom for any sign that was he said might be the truth. Castiel shrugged and lowered the woman back to the ground before slapping a palm to her forehead.

Her screaming only got louder as light poured from her before she collapsed onto her hands and knees, looking slightly singed but otherwise fine. She heaved deep breaths before swinging her head up, hair flaring, and glaring at Castiel. She propelled herself upwards, hands flipping up as well but Castiel stayed rooted in his spot and she looked at him surprised and angry. “What did you do?” she cried out, swinging her hand out and hitting Castiel full in the face. Dean heard the snap of bone before her wail of pain and he knew full well that she had fractured her wrist against the unmovable force of Castiel who turned and made his way towards Dean and Sam, trench coat flaring behind him.

“We can’t just leave her here, Cas. She’s killed three people,” Dean said nodding to the crumpled woman who screamed even more in her anger and defeat.

“I’m pretty sure the cops are on their way, Dean. We must have triggered some alarm system during the fight,” Sam replied, looking tired and worn. “Let them take care of her. Let’s just destroy the hex bags and get out of here.” Dean frowned but nodded looking towards Castiel who nodded in return to his unspoken question. Within seconds Dean felt the all too familiar press of fingers against his forehead and then his stomach bottoming out from the pull of angel travel.

Dean grimaced when he came to in their motel room and let Sam fall to the bed behind them before staggering into the bathroom. He hovered over the sink, clutching at the porcelain before taking a deep breath, shaking his head as he turned on the faucet and splashed his face with cool water. He noticed Castiel standing behind him in the mirror as he toweled off before turning to face the angel. “I’m not going to poop for a week now,” he growled but it came out as more of a whine and Castiel’s lips curled upwards in a soft smile.

“I could fix that.” Dean shook his head, groaning as he leaned back against the sink.

“No way man. I think you trying to fix it would just make something else go wrong.” Castiel’s smile fell momentarily but returned when Dean pushed off the sink and bumped shoulders with him on the way out of the bathroom. “I take it you destroyed the hex bags?” Castiel nodded and sat down on the free bed, Sam having already buried his face into the pillows and star-fished on the other bed, fast asleep.

Dean nodded and sat down next to him, pulling off his boots and socks before pushing his toes into the thin carpet of the floor. “I never want to set foot in another IKEA again,” he groused, flopping back on the bed.

“I quite liked it. I found the designs simplistic and aesthetically pleasing as well as clean.” Dean scoffed and shook his head, closing his eyes.

“We need to work on your taste, man. IKEA is over produced crap that won’t hold up for anything and has no character.” Castiel turned slightly and looked down at Dean who scooted back onto the bed and settled in, wiggling as if to dig a perfect spot in the mattress. His fingertips lazily grazed the back of Castiel’s hand, catching on the sleeve of his trench coat. He pulled the angel towards him and soon felt Castiel settle beside him, shoulders brushing. “Take off the damn coat, stay a while.”

He heard Castiel chuckle softly and felt Castiel shift in the bed and soon heard the rumple of clothing fall to the floor. He opened his eyes and reached for Castiel’s tie, pulling it loose and free from his neck before letting it fall to the floor. Castiel lips were quirked in a soft smile reserved for Dean and Dean thought he wouldn’t ever get used to it, frowned and grumbled as he roughly pulled Castiel back down, helping him toe off his shoes and socks as they settled into the bed, Castiel’s shoes hitting the floor with a muffled thump.

“I have to admit I like this bed a bit more,” Castiel murmured and Dean rolled his eyes, turning on his side and reaching over to grip Castiel’s hip and pull them together.

“Yeah, it’s not too bad,” he mumbled back gruffly. Castiel huffed and nuzzled his nose against Dean’s. Dean snorted and pressed his dry lips quickly to Castiel’s, pulling back soon after before closing his eyes and mumbling goodnight. Castiel’s smile grew as he felt Dean’s grip on his hip tighten and was content to lay there silently as the Winchester’s slept.

 

The End.


End file.
